Good Morning
by Starsearcher
Summary: Some mornings just never go right


Title: Good Morning  
  
Author: Starsearcher  
  
E-Mail: Starsearcher519@hotmail.com  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Category: Humor, Romance  
  
Codes: S, all  
  
Summary: Ciac: Zeus, Squelch, Zipper  
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all. I own nothing, not even the clothes on my back. Don't sue me! (unless you want my lint collection, which is rather extensive by the way, and quite the find really.I'd be willing to trade for, oh say, 10 bars of gold? No? All right, I'll be generous, 5? But really.I digress..on with the fanfic!) AN: I know the zipper's actually in the front, but just bear with me (  
  
Hoshi's POV  
  
Damn damn damn damn...  
  
Oh no. It's already 0700? What happened to sleep?  
  
I roll out of bed, hair sticking up everywhere, eyes still drooping from fatigue. No no no no...it can't be 0710 already! How the heck do ten minutes pass by so fast, when all I'm doing is yawning? Go me, I must have the universe's longest yawn.  
  
Some mornings just never right.  
  
I trip over, falling on the floor as my face lands inches away fromt he corner of my desk.  
  
Memo to self: must move that desk.  
  
Great job, Hoshi...T'Pol's going to have a field day reaming you out for this. Dammit all!  
  
I move to the bathroom, bare feet sliding on the floor, and pull out toothbrush.  
  
Squelch.  
  
Sigh. Damn toothpaste on face. Now I look like I'm going to shave. Oh how pretty.  
  
Groaning, I pull my uniform from the hanger, pull my hair into a sloppy ponytail, and run out the door.  
  
Must. Not. Be. Late.  
  
Crap...0732...I hope no one sees me come in two minutes late.  
  
No such luck.  
  
I sometimes hate Vulcans.  
  
Of course she sees me. Heck, she probably heard me walk in, with those sneaky sharp ears. And of course, she glares at me.  
  
Oh wait, here it comes. Thank God some things are predictable.  
  
Yes, you can do it. Slowly...good...rising...ah hah!  
  
Eyebrow is now fully peaked and charged.  
  
Some things never change.  
  
Okay, just walk slowly to console. Ignore humongus evil eyebrow shooting invisible rays of contempt at you. Just ignore. Maybe no one else will notice.  
  
"You having a bit of trouble this mornin', Hosh?"  
  
Trip.  
  
Okay, if he weren't so damn good looking, I might feel compelled to kick him  
  
I turn around, giving him by best smile, controlling urge to glare.  
  
Nope, can't hide the glare.  
  
"Just overslept a little. Nothing to worry about."  
  
Must keep smile on face.  
  
Nope, still can't hide the glare.  
  
Wait...why is he laughing?  
  
"Um, Ensign..."  
  
Ok, so now Malcolm joins in. Oh joy.  
  
"Yes, Lieutenant?"  
  
I should get a reward for being so civil.  
  
"Um...your...um..."  
  
Yes, come on...you can say it...just let it all out.  
  
"...um...y-your uniform..."  
  
What about it? I'm so confused. I look down, seeing that everything was properly placed and zipped up.  
  
The zipper...  
  
My hands feel around the back of my uniform.  
  
I touch skin.  
  
And bra strap.  
  
Oh. My. God.  
  
Okay, no big deal. I mean, sure, you're just half undressed, but hey, I'm sure no one will make anything out of this...  
  
Oh who am I kidding?  
  
I turn to look at the others on the bridge.  
  
Malcolm's eyes seemed to look larger than normal.  
  
Did T'Pol just roll her eyes?  
  
Travis, wow, I never knew skin could be that red. Then again, mine is probably the same.  
  
Wait...what is that sound?  
  
I turn to face Trip, who is barely containing his laughter.  
  
Miserable sonofa-  
  
"Hoshi? What are you doing?!"  
  
Oh crap.  
  
Wincing, I turn to see Captain Archer, unmistakable shock on his face as he stares at me. Hmm...it's only the back, sir. Not like you haven't seen anything like that before.  
  
"Sir?" I ask innocently, figuring what the hell, I might as well dig myself a deeper hole.  
  
"Ensign Sato...do you mind telling me why you are...unzipped?"  
  
Heh. Am I making you uncomfortable, sir?  
  
"I seem to have forgotten to finish dressing, sir."  
  
"Oh."  
  
That's right, you're speechless. And thank Zeus for that. If you give me a speech about naked and unzipped gazelles, I will shoot you.  
  
"Ensign, could you-I mean...can you zip up now?"  
  
Malcolm has turned a nice shade of green. Hmm...I wonder which bra I'm wearing? The black? The pink? Or the red lace one?  
  
"Oh, my," I hear Malcolm mutter.  
  
Heh. Must be the red one.  
  
I reach behind me, pulling up the zipper until it almost reached the bra. Wait, why won't it move?  
  
Oh great.  
  
"Um, sir? It-uh-seems to be stuck."  
  
Good lord. Didn't know Archer could jump that high.  
  
Or bounce...  
  
Oh my. Never knew they could bounce.  
  
Must not look.  
  
"Um, sir? Could someone help me?"  
  
I look desperately at T'Pol, but she has a smug this-should-be-interesting look.  
  
Damn her.  
  
Memo to self again: put pork into her plomeek soup.  
  
"Uh..."  
  
Sigh. Am I that repulsive? Honestly, there's practically no skin showing. No other women on the bridge...damn.  
  
How many Starfleet officers does it take to zip up a uniform?  
  
"Malcolm?" Archer gasps out, still in shock, and still...  
  
Must. Not. Look.  
  
Malcolm turns an even deeper shade of green. Oy, do I make him sick or something.  
  
He shakes his head, pointing to Trip.  
  
"Go on, Commander. You're the engineer. Fix it."  
  
I turn to Trip.  
  
Oh my again.  
  
Ahem.  
  
Must. Avert. Eyes.  
  
"Uh...sure...turn around, Hosh."  
  
I turn obediently.  
  
His hands are shaking, his fingers trembling against the uniform. I hear him swallow, his fingers wrapping around the zipper.  
  
He pulls upward, trying to free the stubborn mechanism. Accidentally, his hand brushes against my skin.  
  
Oh. Contact. Bet he had a heart attack from that one.  
  
I sneak a glance back.  
  
Yep, he's still shaking. I hear him take a deep breath, then pull hard on the zipper.  
  
With a swoosh, it goes up, and he starts to move away.  
  
Too bad my zipper decided to hook onto his sleeve.  
  
OW.  
  
I fall backwards, shoving him down as we tumble to the ground. Somewhere amidst the fallen limbs, I see his bright red face.  
  
"Commander? Is there a problem?"  
  
Is it just me, or does T'Pol sound way too amused?  
  
"Nope, none here," he mumbles, trying now to pull his sleeve loose. Smart idea, Mr. Chief Engineer. Try to dislodge your sleeve as I AM LYING ON TOP OF YOU.  
  
Sigh.  
  
He finally manages to free it, and with some awkwardness, I slide off of him and we get up.  
  
The bridge crew looks way too happy.  
  
Damn you all.  
  
"Sir?" I ask Archer, who is now sitting in his chair, a hand over his face.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"May I go to my station?"  
  
He nods feebly, waving me off.  
  
Sighing, I move to my console, sitting down and fixing my attention to the screen. Wow, those little buttons sure look pretty when you're trying hard to avoid the stares of your fellow crewmen.  
  
Some mornings just never go right.  
  
~the end~ 


End file.
